


Put It On

by Ylith



Series: Simulacrum [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Lingerie, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:44:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3473198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ylith/pseuds/Ylith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a prompt request from tumblr.   Dom misses Mal and wants to feel close to her again, so he buys a nightie that reminds him of one she used to own and tells Arthur to wear it.  Arthur doesn't refuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Put It On

Dom never once feared rejection when he handed the non-descript white bag to Arthur, never even considered that the other man might object because he knew Arthur. Arthur never said no to him, even when it meant knowingly putting his own life in danger, even when he had to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Dom was dead wrong and reckless to a fault, and he wouldn’t refuse Dom this either. Dom had never delved too deeply into the source of Arthur’s unyielding devotion, preferring instead to use it to his own advantage. 

Arthur’s eyes had immediately dropped the second Dom crowded his space in their shared hotel room, not rising to meet Dom’s again when he opened the bag and realized its contents. His mouth was a hard line, jaw clenching beneath skin still smooth with youth, but he nodded in acceptance, head bowed as he awaited further instruction. Dom took a sip from his drink as he eyed Arthur, waited for him to move. 

“Put it on,” he finally said, turning from Arthur and draining the remaining whiskey from his glass before depositing it on the desk. It took a moment, but he could soon hear the soft rustle of Arthur’s clothes as he removed them followed by the crinkle of the white bag. Dom waited with his back turned until Arthur finally was silent, taking this as the signal he was ready. 

Arthur’s head was still bowed, his arms hanging limp at his sides but his hands fisted. He didn’t look up again when Dom approached him, color high on his cheeks and his thin chest rising and falling with his quickened little breaths.

Dom had been right about the navy. It was more Mal’s taste than the black one he’d also considered back at the shoppe, and he could easily imagine the nightie skirting around her thighs as her own had done, filled out by her breasts where it lay flat against Arthur’s chest. He was too narrow, too slim and all lines where she had been curves, but when Dom reached forward the slippery silk was familiar beneath his fingers. It didn’t create an illusion per se, but it grounded him and made everything easier with the heady rush of memories it instantly incurred. It had a life to it here in his room, with Arthur’s warm skin beneath it, a character it lacked in the shoppe when one of the straps slipped down Arthur’s shoulder to drape delicately about his arm.

Arthur was pliant when turned towards Dom’s bed, got onto his knees as Dom instructed and folded himself forward, presenting himself to the older man. Dom stood behind him, staring down at Arthur’s prone body but looking for Mal as he reached for his own zipper. He tried to find similarities as he stroked himself, tried to make the lines of Arthur’s body soften, tried to imagine his hair a little longer, a little lighter. 

Dom closed his eyes and saw her, sitting at her vanity in the navy nightie. She was brushing her hair until it shone in soft waves about her face, her eyes hooded when she looked back at him in the mirror. He imagined her rising from the seat, her eyes never leaving his as she crossed to the bed they’d shared and crawled atop it, her head canted back in invitation. 

It wasn’t long before he was hard enough to pick up the lube. He didn’t have a condom; it hadn’t actually occurred to him as he’d been planning as he would have with Mal, and they hadn’t bothered with condoms in years. And Arthur...Dom knew Arthur wouldn’t insist that he get one, just as he knew Arthur would go along with everything else. 

Arthur didn’t even move when Dom took him by the hips and pulled him back, just let himself be dragged and positioned, his face buried in his folded arms. Dom trailed his fingers down the length of Arthur’s back, feeling the nobby bumps of his spine beneath bare skin and then silk. It was all wrong though, too thin, and when he pushed up the hem of the nightie to bare the firm little ass he could also see the extra flesh between Arthur’s legs that shouldn’t be there. 

Dom grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and tapped Arthur’s hip, the pointman lifting enough for Dom to slide the pillow beneath him. “Keep your legs together,” Dom said a little too stern, watching how the new position of Arthur prostrate on his belly changed the lines of his body. It softened him, smoothed out his back and made his ass look rounder, the pillow beneath him ensuring Dom wouldn’t have to come in contact with anything he didn’t want to. 

He jerked himself off as he twined the slinky nightie between the tips of his fingers, his thumb gently tugging against one of Arthur’s firm asscheeks just enough to bare his tight little hole. He smeared just enough lube onto his cock to ensure it wasn’t too painful to push inside Arthur, but it was still so tight Dom’s breath was momentarily taken away. Arthur whimpered, the sound strained and broken, but while he clenched his fists until his knuckles were white, he didn’t say a word. He flinched when Dom pulled out to apply more lube, cried out when Dom clinically worked two slick fingers into him to open him further. Dom fought down the selfish urge to tell him to be quiet, knowing he could be gentler as he eased back into Arthur, that he would have been gentler with Mal. But then again with Mal, many things would have been different.

Dom closed his eyes, fisting the nightie as he began to thrust. He imagined Mal, looking up at him from the bed, playfully dragging the nightie up her elegant thighs. He remembered the smell of her perfume, the sound of her quickening breaths as they made love. His greedy fingers traversed the soft skin beneath his hands, gripped harder than he normally would have allowed himself before. He gripped hard enough to keep her there with him as his thrusts increased with his impending orgasm, but then he rocked in hard and a strangled sob broke through his haze. 

“No, no, no” Dom murmured, pulling her up onto her knees and back against his chest, his embrace trapping her trembling arms against her front as he buried his nose in her hair. “Stay with me,” he begged her, her nightie rubbing against his skin as he thrust harder. Her smell was slipping from him though, her softness giving way to hard lines and he quickened his pace, holding onto his memories as his hips shuddered with his release and he came inside her. 

Dom panted open mouthed against a warm throat, his nose buried in sweaty hair, but the smell was too clean and too masculine. The body in his arms too lean and rigid, the chest too flat. The illusion completely broken, he pulled out of Arthur as carefully as he could before releasing him from his tight hold. Without the support Arthur crumpled to the bed, legs tucked up and arms wrapped about himself. He had tear tracks on his face, his eyes obscured by his messy hair. When Dom looked down he could see his own semen smeared against Arthur’s thighs, streaked from where it must be leaking out of him. He turned around immediately, gingerly tucking himself away and doing up his trousers without bothering to properly tuck in his shirt. 

He could hear Arthur moving, heard him try to stifle a groan as he sat up. When Dom turned back to face him he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his arms ramrod straight to prop himself up but his head bowed. He refused to look up even when Dom stood directly before him, and Dom found himself hating the silence, hating that Arthur wouldn’t just look at him and reassure him that this had been ok. 

Dom curled his finger beneath Arthur’s jaw, guiding his wet face up towards the dim light so he could take a closer look at him. Arthur’s eyes were red rimmed, fresh tears already welling as Dom met his eyes and saw what Arthur was still trying to hide from him. He could see the love in Arthur’s eyes, and the heartache, the melancholy longing in his gaze the first thing to genuinely remind Dom of Mal. 

Before he even realized his own intent, Dom was twining his fingers in Arthur’s hair and tugging his head back just enough to give Dom room to stoop down and kiss him. It was soft, something brief yet meaningful, the way Mal liked to kiss him, and when Dom finally straightened again he found himself looking at Arthur’s pouty lips and wondering how they’d look stained with Mal’s favorite lipstick. Wondered if Arthur would wear it for him.

Arthur just stared up at him, lips still parted as he studied Dom, searched him for answers to questions Dom knew he’d never be asked. 

“I want to get cleaned up,” Arthur finally said, arms still braced against the edge of the bed, the one strap of the nightie still slipped down his bare shoulder. 

Dom nodded, stepping back to give him space. When Arthur stood, he kept his hands pressed between his legs, and Dom realized as he watched him retreat to the bathroom that Arthur was hard. Dom had never really considered Arthur’s pleasure throughout the whole encounter, not once until that very moment, and he was selfishly grateful that Arthur understood it wasn’t part of their unspoken deal that night. 

As he undressed and got ready for bed, Dom tried not to think about how long Arthur had been in the bathroom. It was a while still until he heard the shower turn on, the sound muffled through the door but obvious in the otherwise silent room. There was no way he’d be able to sleep, so he lay in bed, the only illumination coming from the small lamp on Arthur’s side, and just waited. 

The shower turned off, and soon Arthur was opening the door, completely naked with his wet hair combed off his face. Any traces of tears or discomfort were gone from his face, his expression cool as he met eyes with Dom. In his haste to leave the room, Arthur had not brought any other clothes with him, and Dom couldn’t help but glance down and take note that Arthur’s cock was soft between his thighs, though whether by distraction or Arthur’s own doing he cared not to dwell. 

The nightie was carefully folded in Arthur’s hand, held tentatively at his side. Dom was half expecting it to be thrown in his face, maybe even wanted him to. He wanted some show of emotion from Arthur to know where they stood, but for the first time Arthur was unreadable to him. 

Arthur almost looked expectant, like he was waiting for Dom to say something, but after a brief silence he crossed the room to where his suitcase was propped up atop a chair. Dom watched in mounting disbelief as Arthur calmly lifted the top of his suitcase and carefully laid the folded nightie inside. He glanced back over his shoulder to Dom, who stared at him in almost nervous disbelief. 

This was not what he’d intended when he’d purchased the nightie. He’d expected Arthur to be compliant, benevolent in his sacrifice to Dom’s misery to the point where he could truly forgive Dom’s selfishness, but he’d never expected to be granted further permission. And that’s what Arthur had just given him, of that there was no mistake. Clean of tears and heartache, the love in Arthur’s soft expression curdled Dom’s gut with a sinking shame. Shame that he’d used his best friend and closest companion in this manner, and further still at the realization that he wasn’t good enough to not use this to his own advantage. The shame was brief though. Dominic Cobb after all was at his deepest core an opportunist. 

Arthur donned a fresh pair of underwear, his movements only a little stiff, before moving to his own bed. He slipped under the duvet, checking the alarm on his phone before reaching up to turn off the lamp. Dom could feel Arthur’s eyes on him but pointedly did not look at him. After a moment he heard Arthur lay back down, the stiff hotel sheets rustling as he arranged himself. 

“Goodnight,” Arthur said, his voice low and tired, sounding distant. 

Dom glanced over and saw that Arthur was turned onto his side, his back to him. He relaxed a bit, glad to be out from his friend’s gaze. 

“Night,” he returned.


End file.
